


Tell Me Where It Hurts

by orphan_account



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra is doing her best, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lesbian Disaster Adora (She-Ra), Lesbian Sex, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Repression, Shame, Shameless Smut, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, can you not, haha shameless sure, jk I love you, oh my god YOU TWO, you're both terrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-16 04:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20192167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Catra and Adora are like two peas in a pod-- inseparable. The best friends the horde has ever witnessed. They are also both tragically gay and tragically stupid.akathe one where Catra gets the good girl scritchies she deserves!!!Inspired by a prompt from my friend who is trying to murder me. Thanks, you miserable bastard.





	Tell Me Where It Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> //mutual pining, pre-relationship, unresolved romantic tension, established cuddle/snuggle/scritch routine  
Switching POVs preferably  
Like Adora is like "it's so messed up that I'm sexualizing this it's So Wrong, Catra Needs This, she would never let me do this if she Knew"  
Catra is like "Adora would never do this for me if she Knew"
> 
> You didn't have to come at me like that, my guy. Thanks though. This will be fun. Everyone depicted is of legal age, blah blah blah. Let's wreck these idiots, and of course, bring on the smut!

Adora was waiting patiently (read: anxiously) for Catra to return from a meeting with Shadow Weaver. Things were always a bit rocky when it came to their… mother figure? The thought vaguely repulsed the young soldier-- thinking of Catra as her sister was wrong on so many levels. It probably shouldn’t have been. But it was, and the blonde was too wrapped in her ‘Is Catra Okay’ panic to give much thought to her long-standing ‘I’m So Gay’ panic. There wasn’t an awful lot to do, sitting alone in their bunk. They usually passed the time by telling each other dumb stories, or teasing each other-- oh God, was that flirting? Was she flirting? Gay Panic was an ever-present and inescapable thought and she was stupid to pretend otherwise. Granted, Catra told her she was stupid about a number of things. She liked to think it was affectionate, in such a way that the other soldier could actually show affection. Her closest friend was very particular about what she dismissed as ‘gooey feelings’, seeming to hold a sense of general contempt for things like crushes, or love, or soulmates, or happily ever after. 

Recognizing the path her thoughts were taking, Adora whined in the back of her throat. She needed to focus! Helping Catra sort through Shadow Weaver drama was honestly way beyond her capabilities, but she was going to do her best, dammit! So what if Catra was especially adorable when she was being a pouty kitten? There was a distinction between the feline being genuinely upset and moping, and though she would never say as much, a moping Catra was the cutest thing Adora had ever witnessed. Of course, the other soldier would never admit she was being petulant. This usually ended up with Adora tickling her sides until she couldn’t maintain her grumpy expression and led to their happier petting sessions. 

Was petting sessions an okay thing to call it? Was that weird? She would have to ask Catra-- it was an unspoken rule that what happened in their shared bunk stayed there, and she couldn’t very well ask Lonnie of all people if petting her best friend was strange. Catra would never forgive her. Granted, there were a number of things she was one hundred percent certain Catra would never forgive her for. For example, the twitching of her fingers as she tried to distract herself from thoughts of warm fluff. The inferno that threatened to swallow her whole any time Catra gave her That Look, how did she not realize how attractive she was? It was unacceptable. Not allowed! But a surge in Adora’s assertions that Catra was gorgeous, Catra was perfect, Catra was sexy, she loved Catra so much--

Would end up much like that train of thought, crashing and burning while Adora was helpless to do anything but bury her face in her hands and squirm uncomfortably. She groaned listlessly, throwing herself back on the bed and stopping just short of throwing a tantrum. Stupid thoughts. Stupid brain. Stupid sexy Catra. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like thinking of Catra in a way that friends decidedly shouldn’t, unless she was having a moment where she very much enjoyed those thoughts-- which had gotten nearly unbearable since puberty and they were getting older and Catra was so very _Catra_! She always had this knowing look when Adora woke from a particularly interesting dream, nostrils flaring in a way that shamed the blonde to her core while somehow making her feel all too hot. The feline could smell her, and that knowledge would probably be what killed Adora. She never asked-- how could she!? How did one even approach that situation? Hey, buddy of mine, do I smell nice after dreaming of a very lewd shower scene that is very against protocol!?

She wondered, then, how she had managed to keep Catra safe from recognizing the damning affection that surged through her bloodstream every time she stroked her fingers through soft fur. Granted, for all of Adora’s supposed obliviousness, the feline could be infuriatingly dense at times. Adora never pressed her desire for a wide berth while Catra was enduring her… ugh, heat cycles. It was more convenient that they ignored each other all day during such occasions, and Catra immediately fell asleep at the foot of their shared bed before things could get too awkward. At least, too awkward for Catra herself. Adora never mentioned that she could feel the damp warmth radiating from her friend’s skin, dared not voice the times she’d forced herself to stay quiet while watching the feline writhe and whine in her sleep. The way Catra moved, even unconscious, was tantalizing. The arch of her spine, the curling of clawed toes and the slight shudder-shiver of her purring culminating in what the feline always declared the best sleep she’d ever had. Sure, Adora was a bit fidgety running on no sleep and far too much excitement, but she always kept her hands to herself!!! Maybe to an embarrassing extent, but Adora’s hands never left Adora during these monthly cycles. 

Another whine escaped her unbidden as she thought of how wrong it all was: biting her lip until it bled because if she dared cry out like she so badly wanted to, she would have to explain why she was staring at her friend like some creep with her hand shoved down the front of her own pants. There were dozens of times she was one hundred percent sure she woke the other soldier up with her lascivious activities-- frustrated whines of her name stopping her short as Catra’s body jerked. The first few times, she’d tried to come up with some sort of excuse but was grateful the feline never woke up entirely, and never remembered said exchanges. Adora was very bad at lying. It was contrary to the nature of a horde soldier-- they were never supposed to expose their weaknesses. It was different with Catra, though. Too different-- painfully so. It drove her to the brink of madness to think of how her dearest friend would look at her if she knew what Adora was so often thinking.

She could usually maintain her composure to some degree-- to save herself the embarrassment, but spare Catra from the humiliation as well. The blonde couldn’t imagine how degrading it would feel to be sexualized by your only friend. Very much so, she supposed, though were the tables turned she wouldn’t exactly complain… All in all, though, she could stuff the embarrassing stuff deep down when it was truly necessary. Catra needed her and she needed Catra! They were each other’s only solace, the only comfort they allowed themselves. She loathed that she thanked the stars because the other horde soldier was always somewhat awkward about requesting one of their sessions for some time after her cycle. It was pathetic, it was disgusting. It was wrong, the most wrong Adora had ever felt. She refused to be so weak as to deny Catra the simple comfort of a familiar hand scratching along those spots that relaxed her to the point of going limp. Catra needed a friend! Someone she could trust, not some pervert!

Adora was jerked from her spiraling anxiety as she heard approaching footsteps. They sounded off kilter, and the fact that she could hear them at all was alarming. Catra moved silently, with the grace of a dancer... or perhaps a predator stalking its prey. Lowering her hands from her face, Adora sat upright and nearly jumped out of her skin as she watched the dark haired young woman limp towards the bed. She desperately wanted to ask what had happened, but the stormy look in those mismatched eyes promised only pain if she went down that path. The horde soldier’s tail twitched with obvious agitation, but it was more than just anger. There was a deep sorrow in her friend’s gaze, which refused to meet her own. 

“Catra…” Adora murmured, scooting back to make room for her friend. The feline smiled, an obviously forced expression that broke the blonde’s heart. 

“I guess someone pissed in Shadow Weaver’s breakfast rations,” Catra said breathily, wincing as her injured foot hit the floor awkwardly. Her face twitched from the visible force of containing her cries of pain, and the shame that had ensnared Adora fell away. She forced herself to remain still, knowing the feline would lash out if she helped her to their bed. However, when Catra slumped onto the mattress with a pained sigh, Adora didn’t hesitate to draw her closer. Scratching lightly at the base of her friend’s neck, she was relieved when Catra relaxed into her touch. They did not speak for some time, but Adora finally broke the silence.

“You don’t… you don’t deserve to be hurt like this,” the blonde asserted quietly, and the other woman remained silent for what felt like too long. Eventually, she allowed Adora to pull her into her lap and the blonde stroked along the back of her neck into her thick mane of hair, scratching her scalp like she knew the feline liked. Catra seemed irritated when she was unable to silence her instinctive purring, but that wasn’t anything new. Soft feelings, she would say. Gooey. Adora was sure she wasn’t going to receive a reply, but sometimes silence spoke volumes. The final bit of tension seeming to fade from the feline’s body, she sighed against Adora’s shoulder, tilting her head to bury her face in the side of the blonde’s neck. Adora’s body reacted immediately, to the point she nearly missed it when Catra finally did speak.

“Well. That all depends on who you ask, Adora. Personally… I’m not so sure.”


End file.
